


get out while you can (it's a bright world out there)

by misura



Category: Spy Game (2001)
Genre: Banter, Domestic, Future Fic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "I swear, you're getting uglier every day," Tom said, by way of 'good morning'.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inksmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksmith/gifts).



_'Someone I trusted once told me to put aside some money - you know, just in case,'_ Tom had told him, eleven months, four weeks and a couple of days ago.

Nathan still wasn't sure what do with that 'once'. He suspected it applied to the trust issue, which would be fair enough. He'd never betrayed Tom, and he certainly hadn't ever been in a position to betray Elizabeth (she was 'Lizzy' only to friends - again: fair enough).

Then again, he'd known Tom had received most of his pre-spy training with the Boy Scouts. Things like that left their marks on people. Merit badges for purity and truthfulness, and all that.

Of course, given the circumstances - him, recovering from getting beaten up by a younger man; Tom, reconciled with an old mentor figure via beating the crap out of said figure, the 'once' might also have applied to the 'told'. Nathan would be okay with that.

In fact, Nathan would be more than okay with that. What old mentor figure didn't want to meet up with a former student to have his own words quoted back at him like pearls of wisdom, now applied to real life in order to achieve money, success and happiness?

For a given value of 'money, success and happiness', naturally, but then, _Nathan_ had never had the benefit of being trained by the Boy Scouts.

 

"I swear, you're getting uglier every day," Tom said, by way of 'good morning'. "Don't you think he gets uglier every day?" This last to Elizabeth, who did not smile.

Nathan assumed that meant that it was going to be one of _those_ mornings. Oh well. It happened.

"He always looks more or less the same to me," she said. "Not very attractive."

"Not very, but a little bit?" Nathan asked. "Thanks, Lizzy. That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all day."

"It's nine AM," she said, stabbing something on her plate that probably had it coming.

"Exactly," Nathan said, getting himself a plate and sitting down. Not too close to either of them. Close enough to do a quick grab and dive though, if circumstances arose to make that sort of strenuous exercise necessary. "Day's still young, and already things are looking up."

"Trust me, it'll all go downhill from here," Tom said. Tom's plate was empty, which Nathan took to mean he'd stuck around for the pleasure of watching other people (which was to say: Elizabeth) eat and fetch them (yup, still, Elizabeth) coffee and/or tea, according to their preference (she varied it from day to day, as any good Englishwoman who'd gotten disconnected from her tea-soaked English roots).

"Oh, I trust you." Nathan held up his mug. "Any chance of coffee?"

"I think the weather forecast said 'rain'," Tom replied. "Fifty to sixty percent."

"Cute." Nathan rose to get himself some of the horrible stuff that passed for coffee around these parts. "Don't you think he gets cuter every day?" he asked Elizabeth. "Be fair now."

She'd rather swallow glass than agree with him on anything. Elizabeth was stubborn that way. Nathan had speculated that it was because a woman, and women were good at holding grudges.

Men, now, men were good at remembering the good stuff. That time you'd done them a favor. That time they'd done you a favor. Of such things, long-lasting and successful friendships were made.

Tom grinned at Elizabeth, projecting a very strong 'crazy kids in love' vibe. Nathan felt old. Also excluded, which was far more likely to be the point.

"I believe I shall 'plead the fifth', as you Americans say," Elizabeth said.

Wouldn't have helped her in Su Chou, but then, they'd already known she was guilty in Su Chou. Nathan didn't think the Chinese were big on a fair judicial process either. Of course, from a certain point of view, the CIA wasn't in much of a position to throw stones.

"What, there's something incriminating about telling the truth now?" Tom shook his head. "See? This is why I quit the CIA. Everything's just messed up six ways to Sunday."

Nathan spotted an opening and took it. "Speaking of Sundays."

"I don't think we were."

Nathan chose to ignore this poor attempt at spoilsportery. Spoilsportishness? Spoilsportsmanship sounded odd, like it was something you could win medals for at the Olympics.

"Anniversary's coming up," he said. "Anyone got any suggestions how to celebrate?"

Tom looked thoughtful. "Might do with a new safehouse," he said.

Nathan thought 'safehouse' might not apply when it referred to each and every house you'd lived in for the past months. Unlike some, though, he chose not to niggle over details.

"Some place warm and sunny, perhaps? I did pack my sunglasses." Those sunglasses had come with him to a lot of places. "And sunscreen." That was a lie. Still, not as if the stuff was hard to find. "I wouldn't mind getting a bit of a tan."

Tom shook his head. "Wouldn't help. Once an ugly mug, always an ugly mug. Fact, a tan'd probably just make things worse. You know how it goes. Some fat, old guy at the beach, ogling all the pretty young things running around, convincing himself he's in his twenties again. Never realizing that the only thing he's doing is making an embarrassment of himself."

"You planned on doing a lot of running around on a beach?" Nathan asked. It was hard to picture.

Running around dodging bullets and shooting people, sure. Been there, seen that.

Running around frolicking on a beach, not so much.

Elizabeth didn't quite seem the frolicking type, either. Nathan didn't want to presume, but he liked to think that he was a fairly accurate judge of people and their natural inclination to frolic.

"We could just throw darts at a map or something," she said. "I don't really care."

"Not to sound like a Depressing Dan here, but the odds of hitting some place where they're not going to shoot or at least seriously inconvenience us are - what? I'm thinking somewhere in the range between 'not great' and 'abysmal'."

Tom was nodding. Nathan managed not to fall off his chair. It helped that he wasn't sitting down.

"Besides," Nathan added, "Tom'd probably cheat anyway. I know I would."

Elizabeth grinned the English way, which was to say that she didn't, only Nathan could tell she did. On the inside, or something. Could be it was an Elizabeth thing rather than an English one; Nathan'd known some very jolly Englishmen. "So would I, if I'm honest."

"By all means," Nathan said. "We're among friends here, aren't we?"

"Now what did I say about wrinkled old men embarrassing themselves by making eyes at pretty young things?" Tom sighed. "Sad, Nathan. Very sad. All this fishing for affection - it's just beneath you. Where's your pride?"

"Very few things are beneath me." True, there'd always been a code. Given that it had boilt down to 'do whatever you have to in order to get the job done', it hadn't been much of a code, though.

Holding the moral high ground was cold comfort when you were buried in it six feet under.

"As to my pride," Nathan went on, "I think I may have left it in the pocket of my other pants. You know, the ones you ruined last night because I was having some trouble with the buttons."

Tom chuckled. Easy enough for him to be amused: he wasn't the one needing to find a tailor, to say nothing of coming up with an innocent explanation for the damage.

"I miss London sometimes," Elizabeth said.

"London's not an option," Nathan said, before Tom could beat him to it. Tom was a good kid, always had been, but he still struggled with the concept of a designated bad guy. "You know that, Lizzy."

"Still," Tom said, "European city, lots of rain. Some historical buildings. Easiest if we all speak the language, so ... Prague, maybe?"

"If the rain's optional, we could also hit southern France," Nathan said.

"What's with you and this beach thing? I swear, it's like an obsession."

"Rain's definitely optional." Elizabeth smiled. A real, honest smile. If Nathan were the poetic type, he'd have said that it lit up her face. "France sounds lovely."

"Great. That's settled, then." Nathan bid a mental farewell to the horrible coffee, the terrible weather. The friendly locals. "Anyone up for helping me pack?"

"I'm having breakfast right now," Elizabeth said, glancing at Tom. "Maybe later."

"Tom?"

"Yeah," Tom said, looking at Elizabeth. "Maybe later."

Subtle, they weren't. Still, fair enough, after last night. Nathan wondered on occasion how Tom managed it, but that way, inferiority complexes lay, and he was far too old to be getting one of those.

"You crazy kids don't do anything crazy now."

Nathan thought he might have heard Tom say, 'look who's talking' before he got out, but he might have been wrong. Oh well. He had a suitcase to pack; best concentrate on that for a while.


End file.
